The Prologue Of Huckleberry Finn

It was hazy and frigid outside this seaport town. The aroma of fish was in the air. There were crashes of waves hitting the docks and rocking sailboats reciprocating in the water. Sailors were departing and arriving from this old town. “Fresh salmon, get your fresh salmon here!” One merchant yelled. “The fresh-ist of fish here, better catches than that old soul selling salmon!” Another merchant bellowed. Minutes went by. They began to walk towards each other in rage. Their fists rising up. “You ol’ salty sailor, you won’t be taking my customers with your slander!” “It’s just business, don’t be yelling at me!”

The older, more built merchant strikes in pure anger. One, hard punch knocks the young merchant to the splintered ground. In fear, he yells for help.

“Well look at you now, Owen. Stuck in my wee little arms after you tried to kill the little merchant boy. I guess you’ll like swimming in these waters!” “You-you-let m-me go!” the older merchant croaks. The young sailor drags him to the edge of the dock. The sounds of crashing waves with the potent smell of salt triggers the merchant to flail. He gets put on the edge. He looks down. “It’ll be a long drop for ya, you brute!” the sailor says as the merchant slowly slips off the edge of the dock. His hands, gripping for life. “Have fun swimming with the fish, Owen!” the sailor says as he steps on the merchant’s fingers. The merchant falls into the ocean. A large splash followed. The sailor walks up to the injured, younger merchant. “Who - who are